


Brawn over Brains

by hopeless_romantic_spoonie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Light Angst, Smut, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:00:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21526375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_romantic_spoonie/pseuds/hopeless_romantic_spoonie
Summary: The Avenger Reader gets a bit jealous of a new recruit to the team when she sets her sights on Loki. But what is she going to do about it?
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 195





	Brawn over Brains

**Author's Note:**

> This was in response to a drabble celebration prompt request on Tumblr that read: Can I get #1 ("I love you." "That's stupid of you.") with Loki? Perhaps a bit of angst but leads to fluffy smut. Maybe the reader realizes her feelings after seeing him being flirty and affectionate with someone else and when he confronts her for acting differently, avoiding him and whatnot, she kind of loses it and just blurts it out and he responds with frustration as well.

You would think that the most annoying sound in the world was something obvious, like nails on a chalkboard, someone chewing with their mouth open, or maybe the weird slightly out of tune humming that Sam does when you’re in a bad mood just to grind your gears.

But you were proven incorrect when the grating, too-loud cackle of the newest recruit to the Avengers assaulted your ears. You cut your eyes at her, feeling your blood absolutely boil in your veins at her fawning and throwing herself at Loki. He looked quite pleased with her attentions, all puffed out chest and handsome grins as they chatted in the corner.

You slammed your hand down a little too hard at the display they were putting on, accidentally forcing the knife through the onion you were cutting so hard that it split the wooden cutting board in two. _Shit._

“What’d that poor cutting board ever do to you?” Sam asked, coming up beside you and carefully taking the knife out of your white-knuckled grip.

You blamed the onion for the heat stinging at the corners of your eyes, gritting your teeth. “Just got distracted for a minute by Miss Thang over there, batting her eyelashes at Loki like he’s a piece of meat.”

“ _Oh_ , jealous, are we?“

You weren’t jealous, that was absurd. Sure, you had grown close to Loki ever since Stark had plucked you from a cell deep in an underground Hydra base. Your enhanced strength had proven you an effective member of the Avengers, and you had been drawn to the intimidating God of Mischief. Both mistrusted at first, but valuable for what you could do for others, paying for your position with a pound of flesh. 

He was attractive, yes, so much so that the very thought of his emerald eyes locking onto yours made your pulse thrum beneath your skin. But it was more than that. He had a sharp wit and a sharper tongue, keeping you on your toes. You both thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company, even if it was spent in silence while he read and you fiddled about on your phone. He was your best friend, at the very least, and lately you had hoped that that could grow into something more.

But Miss Perfect, with her hourglass figure, shiny hair, and big brown eyes, had swooped in and set her sights on him. She flirted with him with an ease that you could never match. Plus, she was several years your junior. You couldn’t compete with that. He certainly didn’t seem like he minded the attention. Who were you to get in the way of a budding romance?

You wiped your hands roughly on a dishtowel, shaking your head. “Hell no. He’s free to do whatever, and whomever, he wants.”

You could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on your back as you stormed out, but you couldn’t care less.

It was easy enough to navigate Stark Tower without running into either of them. You knew Loki’s schedule like the back of your hand, since you would normally go about your days together. Now that the new girl was trailing after him like a lost puppy, you just switched your routine around a bit. Trained a little later, ate a little earlier, and generally used the buddy system to ensure that he couldn’t catch you off guard.

But after missions, you always found it difficult to sleep. The adrenaline seemed to take ages to fully leave your system, even as lead weighed down your limbs and bruises pockmarked your skin. It wasn’t anything that a bit of a midnight snack couldn’t fix, though. And if it wouldn’t fix it, it wasn’t as if ice cream ever hurt anybody. Except your waistline, but you’d spent all day kicking ass. You’d earned it.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Loki’s low voice coming from the shadows of the living room made you shriek and jump in shock, dropping your spoon. You put a hand on your chest, as if it could calm your suddenly racing heartbeat.

“ _Fuck!_ I’m going to put a bell around your neck,” you hissed, dropping your head to your chest as you took in deep breaths.

“That is one of the more interesting Midgardian fashion suggestions you’ve given me.”

You dropped your now-dirty spoon into the sink, grabbing another from the drawer without answering him. All you needed was the ice cream…

 _Of course_ Loki had planted himself in front of the refrigerator, arms crossed over his chest and chin raised so he stared down the long slope of his nose at you. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You slapped the back of the spoon repeatedly on your palm, letting your head tilt to the side. “Yup,” you replied, popping the last syllable.

“May I ask why?”

You pretended to think about that question for a moment, staring up at the ceiling and chewing on your bottom lip lightly before directing your level gaze back to him. “Um, let’s see… Nope.”

He ripped the spoon from your hand, sending it to the sink with a forceful throw that made it clang a little too loudly for the time of night. “Then I will demand it. Why are you avoiding me?”

He wasn’t going to let it go. That much was obvious. You wished he would, but he was a dog with a bone when he set his mind to something. Your stomach turned with nerves and anxiety, and you felt absolutely foolish facing him in your ratty mismatched pajamas. You backed up and leaned against the kitchen counter, bracing your hands on the smooth granite. Maybe you could play it cool? “I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Do not be childish,” he snapped. “It’s beneath you.”

“Well, that new recruit has been beneath you!”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth you wanted to take them back, grab them from the air and shove them down your throat before your filterless mouth got any more bright ideas. But it happened, so you set your jaw, glaring up at him.

The mixture of emotions warring across his face was difficult to decipher: rage, disbelief, shock, indignation. He closed the distance between you in two long strides, crowding you against the counter. “Is that what your immature behavior has been about? That simpering girl?”

You poked your finger into his chest as hard as you could, secretly pleased when it made him sway back on his heels a bit. “No, not _’that simpering girl’_. You, asshole. You preening as she drapes herself over you, basically fucking you with her eyes. It’s disgusting!”

“Is it so damnable or distasteful that I would welcome the attentions of a beautiful woman?” He looked truly hurt at the question, the furrow of his brow contrasting the flare of his nostrils.

“No, but it shouldn’t be her!” you shouted, beyond caring if anyone heard you. You pushed at his chest with all of your strength, sending him back a step so that you could finally breathe. All of the hurt, the pain and anger you’d suppressed recently spilled out of you like a burst dam. “It should be me! You should be looking at _me_ like that. _I’m_ the one who has always been there for you, and she strolled in and just took you away from me before I even had a chance.”

“I am not yours,” he growled, fists flexing at his sides. “Why would you assume that claim over me?”

“Because I love you, you idiot,” you blurted out, much quieter than you had expected, but still loaded with frustration. Your eyes widened at the unplanned admission.

“That is quite foolish of you.”

You couldn’t read the emotion beneath his rich baritone, and he had managed to wipe his face of all expression. A humorless chuckle escaped you. “Yeah, well, I never said I was smart. Brawn over brains, and all that jazz.”

“Jealousy is appealing on you, little one,” he purred in that deep, velvet voice layered with sin that made heat pool between your thighs.

The shift in his tone was so shocking that it took a moment for you to get your bearings. When you’d recovered from the whiplash, you set your lips into a thin frown and huffed, “I’m not jealous.” You sounded like an indignant child again, but you couldn’t help it. He was mocking you.

His hands grasped your biceps, lifting you onto the counter in a smooth, controlled show of strength that made your breath catch in your throat. This new vantage point put your face on an even level with his as he stepped in between your spread knees.

You had never been more frustrated and grateful for ratty pajama bottoms and thin black sweatpants in all your days.

“You are.” He splayed one hand over your hip, pulling your bodies together so that you could feel the hardening length of his arousal pinned between your bodies.

 _Oh_. You hooked your ankles behind his thighs, holding him against you. Your hands spread out over his chest, appreciating the flex of his lean muscles as you dragged them up to wrap around his neck. Might as well run with whatever was going on before he changed his mind. “Give me a reason not to be?”

You barely caught his wicked smile before he crashed his mouth into yours, the kiss rough and sloppy with clashing teeth and tangling tongues and nipped lips. His free hand cupped your breast through your top, tweaking the hardened peak of your nipple to send electric shocks to your throbbing core. You tugged on the ends of his hair to make him groan into your mouth and his hips buck into you, coaxing your excited gasp into his mouth.

In a flurry of grabbing hands and ripped fabric, you were both naked from the waist down. His hands held your thighs open as he slid the full length of his erection into you, stretching you and splitting you in two from the inside out.

“ _Norns_ , you’re exquisite,” he sighed reverently, resting his forehead against yours, just holding himself inside of your clenching heat.

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, clinging on for dear life as you grew accustomed to him. You flushed with pleasure at his praise, leaning forward to leave a soft, gentle kiss on his lips.

“And you’re not moving,” you answered cheekily, squeezing around him in the same motion as your ankles pressing into his backside.

He dropped his forehead onto your shoulder, thrusting into you in a slow and sensual rhythm that allowed you to feel each and every ridge of his cock. His hand on your breast dropped to your lower belly so his thumb could just press into the pulsing pearl at the top of your sex.

You couldn’t remember how to breathe, couldn’t remember anything. He had burrowed inside of you and erased anything that wasn’t him, wasn’t the masculine scent of his cologne or the salt of his skin as you nibbled on his earlobe. You didn’t know any other sound but your name leaving his throat in a stuttered groan as his hips snapped against you at a punishing pace.

And when he finally surrendered to his orgasm with his mouth closed over your hammering pulse point on your neck, you followed immediately after at the insistent rub of the calloused pad of his thumb. You latched onto him like he was the only thing tethering you to this Earth, trusting him to hold you as you rode the waves of electric pleasure that spasmed in your tired muscles and flashed white behind your closed eyelids.

“C’mon guys, we have to eat in here!”

Loki’s arms wrapped around your back, and a blanket - presumably from his pocket dimension - was tucked around your shoulders to preserve your modesty and hide where you were still joined together. You nuzzled into his embrace, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. You were still basking in the pleasant afterglow, and you didn’t want to face the world - or Tony - yet.

“Walk away, Stark,” he growled, his dangerous voice vibrating through you where his cheek pressed against yours. “You too.”

At his address to a second person, you lifted your head, unable to stop the smug smile tugging on your bruised lips as you looked over your shoulder. That brazen idiot that had been throwing herself at Loki was staring at you both with her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, dumbfounded. You shouldn’t have taken as much pleasure in her shocked expression as you did, but you’d never claimed to be a saint.

“Yes, walk away,” you echoed haughtily. You very visibly drew your hand from around Loki’s back to disappear beneath the blanket, teasing at the cut muscle of his hip, staking your claim on the man still buried within you.

They both stormed off in different directions, allowing you to turn your attention back to Loki.

He beamed with pride down at you. “Minx.”

“But I’m _your_ minx.”

He lifted you off of the counter, holding his hands beneath your backside as he carried you off in the direction of his rooms. “You are, and I must guarantee that the entire tower is made aware of that fact.”

Who were you to tell him otherwise?


End file.
